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by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Hero Worship, M/M, Masochism, Praise Kink, Sexual Content, Unhealthy Relationships, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 11:30:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17182145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: Mitsuhide is rewarded for his work.





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Mitsuhide had done well. It was one of the benefits of keeping him around – he was good at what he did, when it came to battering the other factions into utter and complete submission without a shadow of a doubt. Yes, the man had some strange inclinations, and Nobunaga still did not want to know what went on within that head of his – but he was effective, and ultimately a valuable general for Nobunaga to have.

That was why he’d decided to turn him, of course – he’d proven his worth, and now this would ensure that he would never belong to another – to any other but Nobunaga himself. He’d called Mitsuhide, he’d summoned him and beckoned him forwards, and Mitsuhide, like a needy cat, had crawled right into his lap. Daring indeed – but not entirely inappropriate, given the sheer lengths that he had gone to in order to ensure Nobunaga’s full authority.

“Forgive me,” Mitsuhide said, as if having read his mind, “my Lord Nobunaga.” However, there was no remorse in his eyes, such things were foreign to him. No, there was only longing that ran so deeply it was almost painful to look at. Nobunaga knew what he wanted. There was only one thing he _did_ truly want.

Him.

“I will look past this transgression this once, Mitsuhide.” 

“Oh, oh _thank_ you – “

“Get down.”

Mitsuhide gave him an expression that looked like he had been slapped, but slid down from Nobunaga’s lap to the floor anyways, now resting right in between his knees, still hopeful, still waiting. What would Nobunaga-kou give him this time, what would he allow him? Whatever it would be, Mitsuhide would accept. He licked his lips in anticipation and saw Nobunaga-kou sneer.

Untying the straps on his armored gauntlet, Nobunaga shed the clawed glove and withdrew a small blade, drawing it in one swift motion across the palm of his hand and letting the blood well and accumulate there before holding it out, right over Mitsuhide’s hand. Drip, drip, drip – from between his fingers onto the crown of Mitsuhide’s head, onto his forehead, his lips as he tilted his head back to catch it in his mouth like it was the essence of life itself. He licked his dried lips, his eyelids fluttering as he scooted closer. 

“Yes, _yes,_ Nobunaga-kou, so, you’re so _good_ to me…”

“Drink, Mitsuhide,” Oda sneered, “you have earned your reward today.” He knew that Mitsuhide wouldn't waste a drop – he was like a desperate mongrel, whimpering and whining and begging for just a little more. It certainly wasn’t the first time that Nobunaga had seen him like this – and he had been this way even before he was turned. It wouldn’t be changing anytime soon, not that Nobunaga wanted it to – it was through this that he kept him loyal.

He was running his tongue over his teeth, gasping and writhing right where he was, his arms coiling around Nobunaga’s leg like he was a boa constrictor, and as Nobunaga’s wound closed up, Mitsuhide laid his head sideways on his knee. His hair was brushed out of the way by one uncharacteristically careful gesture from Nobunaga – before he leaned forward and _sank_ his extended fangs into Mitsuhide’s neck. 

Mitsuhide whined once and squeezed his eyes shut, even though it quickly turned into a pleased moan of ecstasy as Nobunaga drew gulps of blood from his thrall’s throat. Yes – this was an indulgence for them both, for pleasure and for hedonistic purposes rather than for survival, but it kept Mitsuhide loyal and chained, the most unbreakable of leashes for the most untamable of creatures. How very fitting. There he was, cheeks flushed and breath short, gasping, he was writhing against Nobunaga’s armored leg just like he did when Nobunaga would tie him up and strip him bare and claim him whole, inside and out. Oh, how he craved it!

Nobunaga raised his foot and pressed the iron tip wickedly against Mitsuhide’s arousal, clamping down hard with his teeth and feeling the blood run past his lips, over Mitsuhide’s throat and collarbones and chest until he was covered with it, he felt him weaken against his body as he started to twitch and shake, those short little spasms of pleasure that Nobunaga was oh so familiar with. It meant he’d won. It meant that he was his, at least for a little while longer. 

For _that,_ a few indulgences here and there were nothing. Nobunaga would, without hesitation, pay.


End file.
